Aftermath
by The Mentalist Rules
Summary: Things don't go so well after they catch Red John...
1. I: Hospital

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

* * *

"Take as long as you want," says the petite nurse who I know not the name of as she leaves me alone in the hospital room.

I take a deep breath as I cautiously approach the bed and stand looking at the prone body of my son. He wears a mask over his face so her can breath, if it wasn't for the gently beeping reassuring me he has a heartbeat I might think he was dead.

I allow myself to sigh sadly as I spy a chair in the corner of the room, I go over and drag it to the bed ignoring the irksome sound it makes, alot like nails on a chalkboard. Focusing my thoughts I sit cautiously down onto the chair and shift uncomfortably feeling unnerved.

I glance at my son, he is sunk deep into the huge pillow most of his face is covered by the mask but his black hair normally so neat is in total disarray. His eyes are closed and deep dark rings beneath them mar the pale skin. I take another deep shuddering breath and let it out as a tear escapes my eye.

I sit there for a long while simply staring at him. I feel so guilty, all of this is my fault. I calm that frantic thought train I do not need that right now, I need to be strong and pray he wakes up. I reach out tentatively and grip his limp hand lying on the bed.

His hand is cold, so cold and it does not even react to my touch. I ignore this as I grasp his hand tightly in my own, I am not a good mother but at least I can be here now. Even if he might not ever know, he might not ever wake up.

"Sometimes talking to them helps," the nurse says as she reappears to check on him, I look at her dubiously as she leaves before turning back to my son. There is more silence for awhile before I finally convince myself it is a good idea to speak.

"Hi Julian," I whisper nervously, he does not move but then I didn't expect him too, "its me, Mom here," I gulp guiltily, I'd often discouraged him from calling me that, "how are you doing? Well I know how you're doing... you're just kind of lying there... I wish you'd wake up. It feels stupid talking to you like this, its like I'm talking to myself or something.

I bet you think it's stupid I'm here now when I've treated you so horribly your whole life. I think its stupid anyway but I wouldn't rather be anywhere else, I could lose you and it scares to shit out of me to be honest. I know that sounds stupid too but I guess I always thought you were invincible.

I know how stupid that sounds, I feel stupid saying it but I suppose I am stupid. Really I am. You've always been a good kid, smart, kind, loving... anything a parent could ask for but I turned you away every single time and look where we are now? Sorry doesn't even begin to make things right.

My Mom was a great Mom, she was just the best but some drunken kid stole her from me. My Dad lost it after that, he just drank and drank and drank. He didn't work, he didn't look after us, all he did was drink himself into oblivion but before he reached that he'd get violent, he'd beat me and my brothers.

I always tried to protect them of course, even though it hurt. I tried to protect my Dad too, I never told anyone he was an abusive alcoholic in case they arrested him. I hated him though, as much as I loved him I also hated the guts of what he'd become, that's why its so odd how much like him I am.

Parents are supposed to protect their kids... I tried to protect my Mom, my Dad, my brothers, my friends, your father, the general public but I should have tried to protect you, but no matter what I did or do I just wind up making things worse for you, making your life even harder than it already is.

I often wonder how different things would be if Patrick was still alive. Yes I'm talking about your father wake up and listen, such a shock I know. It's just painful to talk about him, he stole my heart, broke it and then died. I love him so much still... but it still hurts what he did.

There's someone else I have to mention here, Red John. Red John was a serial killer, he went around torturing and killing woman after he was done he used to draw a smiley face on the wall in the victim's blood. I don't know if you know any of this or not but I'm going to tell you anyway.

Your father worked as a fake psychic on this TV show, don't ask me the name of it I don't remember, but basically it was a popular show and he also used to consult with the police, including CBI, to help catch killers with his amazing skills. But then everything went wrong for him.

He was asked a question about how he was helping the police to catch Red John and him being such an arrogant... ass he mocked the guy on live TV! As you can imagine Julian, Red John was not happy he was downright pissed off so in revenge he killed Patrick's wife and daughter.

After the first moment he laid eyes on the note Red John left him he wanted revenge. All he cared about, all he thought about was hunting down Red John and making him die slowly and painfully like he'd done with Patrick's family. To do this he needed access to the case-file.

That was how he ended up as the CBI's pain in the ass consultant attached to my team. Despite his downright wacky plans and cocky arrogant demenor he was actually good at finding the bad guy, he was an asset to the CBI and to my team. We were a good team.

But at some point I realized I had fallen in love with him. Yes I know in love with Patrick Jane, ha! No but really, I did love him. I loved with all my heart, my soul, I loved him more than I'd ever loved anyone or anything. With his brilliant powers of observation it was inevitable he'd notice.

That was when he told me he loved me too. I was happy, so, so, so unbelievably happy. I had the perfect job and the perfect man and the perfect team... obviously happiness doesn't last and before long my perfect world would come crashing down around me and I'd be left with this... wasteland.

And it was all thanks to bloody Red John and Patrick's selfish vengeful desires. Oh Julian the unfairness of it all just makes me want to weep! I still don't know why he could do that to me, I just don't know..."

I force myself to composure, crying never helps anyone let alone when I'm supposed to be being strong for my son. I take another deep breath to calm myself and find surprisingly I want to carry on with my tale, I want to talk about it for once...


	2. II: Red John

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

* * *

"Well Julian I don't know if you can hear me or not, or even if you want to hear this or not but I want to tell you, even if you're not listening... is that okay? Believe it or not, everything changed when we finally found Red John. I had long since vowed to stop Patrick from killing him and so I had.

On November 15th 2011 we arrested Red John, we had actually done it. After so long the bastard was rotting in a jail cell at the CBI. We had done it, he was probably going to get the death penalty anyway and even not it was over. Like an idiot I believed that, I was so happy Julian... so happy.

I remember later that night everything was so at peace, I was just so happy. The moon seemed to shine brighter than the sun as I lay in the strong warm arms of the man I loved, it was so blissful simply lying there in the safe comfort of his arms. I snuggled closer, nestling myself carefully. I was so happy.

Looking back I should have known. Patrick was so quiet which was odd for him, at the time I didn't notice but now... I really should have noticed. He didn't even seem pleased with the arrest or angry or sad or excited... he just went along with everything I suggested.

`Goodnight Teresa, I love you,` he whispered lovingly into my ear, I remember those were his exact words. I simply smiled contentedly.

`I love you too Patrick,` I whispered back before he kissed me gently. It was such so tender yet so passionate at the same time. It would be the last time he ever kissed me, `goodnight` I remember muttering under my breath before I allowed my eyes to flutter shut and my mind to drift off to dream land.

The next morning I awoke to find him gone, I awoke to find myself alone in out bed. At first I wasn't worried, I remember assuming he'd simply gone to the bathroom or to get breakfast but he wasn't. He wasn't even in the house and besides his ugly rust-bucket of a car was absent also.

I remember having this little nagging feeling of worry niggling at the back of my mind and especially when he wasn't answering his cell I felt this dread seeping through my soul. I calmed myself by deciding he must have gone to work early, he must have.

I was so stupid to feel relief when I saw his car sitting in the parking lot, my dread was evaporated by the warm rays of relief. He had just gone to work early, nothing to worry about. I kept telling myself that. It was only after I was entering the building did I wonder why he hadn't been returning my calls.

In my heart I suppose I knew something was seriously wrong, that little nagging feeling was gnawing away at my insides now. It was when I saw the vacant couch did it hit me. A thought, a single name that would and could easily explain the reason I couldn't find Patrick.

Red John.

`Cho, have you seen Jane?` I remember questioning my co-worker, he as the only one there and I was so desperate to be wrong for once.

`No,` Cho had answered in his typical blunt way with that deadpan expression, clearly he had no idea what I feared.

At first I tried to walk calmly to the cells but I couldn't, I started to run and I ran faster and faster until I finally reached them. I hadn't wanted to be right, I'd have given anything to be wrong. I still would, but I was right.

I remember seeing Patrick, he was standing in one of his signature three piece suits standing over the bloody corpse of the man known as Red John. Patrick was locked in a staring contest with the glassy eyes of the corpse. He wouldn't even look at me.

He had cut Red John open and watched him slowly bleed to death, just as the bastard had done to his wife and child. Just as Patrick had vowed so had it come to pass. Red John had died by his hand and I hadn't been able to stop it. He had deserved it of course but it didn't it right.

It just made me feel sick and I know he felt the same way, from the disillusioned way he stared at the body I knew it hadn't made things any better. That was when my heart had broken, how could he have done that? Knowing what it would cost him, not only his freedom but his love.

`Did you kill him Patrick?` I remember asking, I can still remember forcing the words out of my mouth. My mind already knew the answer and my heart prayed furiously that I was wrong.

`I think we both know that I did, Teresa,` was his answer and he finally looked up into my eyes, neither of us bothered to mask the hurt, `I'm sorry.`As if that would make it better.

`I think we both know that you're not, Patrick,` I remember saying coldly, `I think we both know where we stand.`I don't know how I managed to harden my heart as I saw the tears welling in his eyes.

`Teresa...` he begged.

`Shut up and turn around,` I snapped as I cuffed him, he didn't fight. He didn't even struggle. `Patrick Jane, you are under arrest for the murder of...` I started to read him his rights but couldn't recall Red John's real name, I still can't so I just said `for the murder of Red John,` that was when the tears started to fall for both of us, `you have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to an attorney, of you cannot afford one then one will be appointed to you.`

I can still remember how I felt my heart literally breaking as I led him away, my heart shattered into thousands of sharp shards that cut me painfully but I had no choice but to force myself on.

`Do you understand these rights as they have been read to you?` I asked him as I tried to compose myself.

`Yes,` he had whispered miserably as we walked leaving gawking statues in our wake, disbelief carved into their faces. I remember upon reaching the bullpen, the total look of disbelief on Cho's face, the caverns of hopelessness in his eyes as he realized what Patrick had done.

`Why Jane?` I remember him questioning, `why?` but Patrick didn't have an answer, he didn't say anything as he silently cried. I handed him over into Cho's custody. I had to get out.

I left the CBI building and darted past Rigsby and Van Pelt, I went straight to my car and drove. I remember just driving and driving until the gas ran out on some random road. I remember pulling out my gun and I held it to my head waiting for the courage to pull the trigger...


	3. III: Pregnant

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

* * *

But I couldn't.

Instead I threw down the gun and noticed the picture I had of the two of us, I remember how delicately I picked it up as I stared at the smiling faces. Then I screamed as I tore at it. I ripped it, I tugged it until it was just a mass of shreads. I remember how I just flung them onto the floor.

I was so hurt by what he'd done and so... angry, I felt ready to explode with rage as I strode at high speed to my home, our home. I just lost it. I started to smash the furniture, I kicked over tables, threw chairs, emptied drawers, every picture of him or us I burned. Everything of his I found I threw out or burned.

Finally I exhausted myself and sank to the floor amidst a sea of broken items and broken dreams as I watched the writhing flame burn away my future and my hope. They say home is where the heart is, well at that moment my home was as broken as my heart.

I remember I could no longer stop the sobs from wracking my body so I simply wept. I sat there curled in a ball crying for hours upon hours. I remember thinking it was stupid how happy I'd been yesterday and now I wasn't. How stupid it was much how much I had loved him and how much I then hated him.

Well sort of, I loved him and hated him all at the same time and the line was so fine I couldn't tell the difference. At the time I was too devestated to care. It was a while before I managed to pull myself together and get off the floor, then I attempted to rebuild my life.

My team were so supprtive to me, they are such good people I really don't say that often enough. I never visited Patrick in jail though, not once no matter how many times I got messages saying he wanted to talk or that he wanted to see him. Every letter I recieved from him I burned, every phone call I hung up.

Each time I told myself he should have thought of this before he murdered Red John, ot at least at some point while he watched the man die. I convinced myself that if he really loved me as much as he claimed then he wouldn't have put his revenge before our life together.

I didn't go to his trial either, the team did. I remember shrugging as they told me he'd been sentanced to life in prison with a possibiliy of parole after 25 years. I kept convincing myself I didn't care as I continued closing cases and ignoring Patrick's pleas for a visit.

My job was so important to me, I basically threw myself into it and tried to become oblivious to all else but at some point I noticed something was wrong with me, I kept putting on weight, I kept getting sick, my periods had stopped... Van Pelt was the first one to suggest it.

`ARE YOU INSANE?!` I had yelled at her after she asked me in the bullpen, `I AM NOT PREGNANT!`

I know I was too hard her but at the time Julian, I was just too upset to care. At least she didn't ask me again. It did get me thinking though and I decided to see a doctor, I so hoped he'd tell me she'd been wrong.

`Congratulations, you're pregnant,` the aging man had cheerfully told me, I can still remember his face... and the black eye I gave him. I did not want to be pregnant, especially not with Patrick's child. I wanted to get an abortion Julian, I am so sorry but I wanted you to die before you could live.

I couldn't though Dr Blackeye, I can't recall his name, told me that I was too far gone and that I'd have to carry you to term. I went home that day feeling lower than I had since the day Red John had died.

I just couldn't believe it, Julian I am so sorry but I just didn't want you, don't take it personally please I just didn't want to be in that situation. I'm so sorry Julian but I didn't want you but I do now, Julian I swear I do, I swear I love you," my voice breaks as I can no longer hold back my tears, "I love you Julian, I love you please don't die, please wake up! Julian, please..."

I cry for awhile but my son remains asleep and unresponsive, at least his hand is less cold that's gotta be a good sign right? Gently I reach out and run my fingers through his black hair, like the sky on a pitch black night minus the stars and moon. My precious son.

"I had to tell the team of course," I began again with my tale as the tears dry up, "they couldn't decide whether to smile or scowl, after I snapped at Van Pelt for smiling they realized it was not something I wanted, thinking back I really was too harsh on poor Grace, I'll have to apologize at some point.

Cho and Rigsby recommended adoption and for a minute I was sold on it but Van Pelt ever so ethical wanted me to tell Patrick. That was the best idea I had heard in awhile.

Not telling him but never telling him I was pregnant, it became my sole focus to keep you a secret from your father. In my twisted mind at the time it seemed like the perfect way to make him suffer as much as he had made me suffer. I know how awful that sounds but at the time it made sense belive me.

That put adoption out of the question of course, they'd need his consent so I opted to keep you although it would probably have been better for you to allow you to be adopted... I swore the team to secrecy of course, Cho and Van Pelt had visited him "secretly" a few times but one of the prison guards was a friend of my eldest brother so he kept me informed. Even Rigsby visited once.

As you should know Julian, you were born on July 19th 2012 at 11:35pm in this same hospital in Sacramento. Took me 34 agonizing hours of labor and then they decided I needed a C-section, how great. The team were there of course, waiting outside. I refused to let them in, letting my team see me so vulnerable was not on my list of good ideas.

Eventually you were born though and they whisked you away to IC because you were born premarurely or something... I don't really remember I was pretty out of it, I was happy you were born though. I was so happy when they finally let me see you, you were so beautiful, so tiny.

I decided to call you Julian Samuel Virgil Lisbon, your middle names after Bosco and Minelli who were good friends of mine, have you met Minelli? I think so, he visited me after you were born. It was awhile before they let me take you home but I did visit you every day after work..."


	4. IV: Patrick Jane

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

**A/N: **Thank you so much to Anna for reviewing because I couldn't reply to and to Country2776 as well, thanks! And Anna, this chapter at the end explains how he died

* * *

"Eventually they let me take you home though. At first I did try Julian, I took a week off work to be with you but motherhood wasn't exactly what I expected. I was used to looking after my brothers but not as babies. Babies cry all the time and you were no exception but I never seemed to know what you wanted, so much for all that crap about maternal instincts.

I was relieved to go back to work, I hired the cheapest sitter I could find and threw myself back into work. I remember Van Pelt was seriously getting on my nerves with her insesint nagging to tell Patrick about you but of course I refused. Apart from that I loved work. Work was good.

I used to get to work early then spend most of the day there, then stay as late as I could afford doing paperwork. I used to dread coming home, I'm sorry Julian but I did. I was usually exhausted and wanted nothing more than to climb into bed but you never seemed to want to. I know its not your fault but it used to drive me mad.

Anyway it was inevitable Van Pelt would tell Patrick about you, actually I should be impressed it took her almost seven months to tell him. She had been acting odd all day, at first I had thought it was because she was still upset about breaking up with Rigsby but when I confronted her I found I was wrong.

I was furious with her and him. Everyday I got a new letter from him to burn, everyday I got more messages saying he wanted to talk or to see me, everyday I would answer the phone and hear his voice so I had to immediately hang up. It was so freakin' annoying! I was getting more and more frustrated, only Patrick could harass you from prison.

After a few weeks I caved and decided to see him, I decided it was the only way to get him to leave me alone. It's fair right? No more contact for one visit... It would be the last time I would ever see him alive. It was a Thursday I remember, I left work early telling the team I was going to spent the day with you and went to the jail.

He looked different to when I'd last seen him more than a year ago. He didn't look pretty rough to be honest. He had lost alot of weight, he was so thin and pale plus he looked exhausted. His golden hair was in a state of total disarray and then there was the fact his right arm was in a cast along with a black eye.

I can still see his whole face lightening up as he saw me through the glass panel seperating us, he smiled widely revealing he was missing two teeth. He instantly sat down in the chair and eagerly grabbed the phone and held it to his ear waiting for me to do the same.

I hesitated, drinking in the sight of him as I memorized every detail... it was so hard to force myself to stay composed, all I wanted to do was break through the glass and throw my arms around him crying for how much I had missed him but I couldn't, and didn't. I focused my thoughts on what he had done as I sat down slowly and carefully picked up the chunky phone.

`What happened to you?` I had asked.

`Oh... nothing much just the usual prison life I suppose,` he had answered trying to sound cheerful but I could tell it was forced, `can't we talk about something else?`

`The weather?` I had promted bitterly.

`I missed you,` he had said instead, his smile finally falling as his expression became serious.

`I know,` I remember muttering.

`Did you read my letters?` he had inquired hopefully.

`No, I burned them all unopened,` I told him honestly.

`I had guessed as much...` he'd mumbled, `how is our son?`

`He's fine,` I had bluntly replied.

`Can you tell me his name?`

`Didn't Van Pelt?`

`No,` he'd sighed, `she told me I had a son then ran away guiltily.`

`Patrick look... I'm not here socially or whatever I just want you to leave me alone and stop harassing me,` I had said to change the subject and force myself back to the point of my visit.

`I am not harassing you! I just miss you so much Teresa and we have a child... don't you think I had a right to know?` he'd replied looking miserable.

`You gave up that right when you killed Red John,` I had forced myself to reply coldly to which he had looked taken aback.

`I'm sorry,` he'd whispered.

`Sorry doesn't even begin to make things right!` I had yelled angrily.

`I never wanted to hurt you Teresa,` he'd protested.

`You had to have known it would, you have to have known what would happen but you still killed him regardless of the consequences.`

`He killed them Teresa! My family, I lost my family because of him.`

`And now you've lost your family again, because of you,` I remember telling him harshly as tears rolled down both of our faces.

`Don't say that Teresa, I love you. I love you and I love our child... I'd do anything for you two,` he'd answered looking at me pleadingly.

`Then stop trying to contact us Patrick,` I had tried to say calmly.

`But...`

`If you had killed me it would hurt less, and our son... he's going to have to live with the fact his Daddy is a killer who cared more about revenge than about him.`

`That's not fair, I didn't know about the baby until a few weeks ago.`

`Would it have made any difference?` I remember questioning and he hadn't an answer for me, because there is no answer.

`Okay,` he had reluctantly agreed trying to wipe away tears, `I won't contact you anymore...`

`Our son's name is Julian. Julian Samuel Virgil Lisbon,` I'd told him wiping away my own tears, I remember him nodding and smiling slightly, `goodbye Patrick.`

`Do you have to go so soon?`

`Goodbye Patrick,` I repeated standing up.

`Good-goodbye Teresa, tell Julian his Daddy... his Daddy loves him,` Patrick had said tearfully looking at me desperately, `I love you Teresa.`

I had then hung up the phone and hurried away without another word, I managed to get to my car before I broke down in sobs. It was so unfair, it still is... Life is just so cruel," I stop to take a breath as tears roll down my cheeks but I decide to force myself to continue.

"It was Saturday morning that I got the call... that he was dead... another prisoner, his cellmate had... had stabbed him and... and... he had died... Patrick Jane had died..." my voice breaks away into tears and for once I let myself cry...


	5. V: Alcohol

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

* * *

"I was devastated Julian... actually devastated doesn't even begin to describe how I felt," I continue after the crying spell had passed, "even though I was mad at him I had still loved him, I had loved him so much and then he was dead.

It is so horrible to loose someone, its not like you can go out and get them fixed back to life or go get an exact copy of them... once they're gone all that they were is gone. Forever. No matter what you do, they are never coming back to life.

I felt numbed by the news at first, it just didn't seem to sink in that he really was dead. How could he be dead? It was just so unbelievable and I didn't want it to be true. I would do anything for him to be alive again, to see him again. Absolutely anything, I wonder if that's similar to how he felt in prison? I guess I'll never know, will I?

I didn't go to his funeral, that would mean admitting he really was dead and I was in total denial. The team were pretty upset by that but going to his funeral would make it real and I didn't want it to be real. I wanted him to live, I wanted it so badly.

It wasn't until months later I forced myself to go to his grave, and I mean forced. I had to drag my feet across the surreal green grass to the tombstone with his name on it. I'm sure you've seen it.

Seeing that... I snapped out of my denial, he really was dead. I was so stunned my wobbly legs fell to the ground and I cried and cried and cried. I just cried until I ran out of tears but it still wasn't enough, tears couldn't wash away my pain. But I knew what could.

I went to the nearest bar and ordered a bottle of bourbon, my Dad's favorite drink. I drank it, ordered another, drank it, ordered another... you get the point Julian, I drank till I was wasted out of mind. The evening is a bit of a blur but I did manage to get home, I yelled at the baby sitter when they complained I was late and then woke up the next morning.

I had one killer hangover but I managed to be fine for work, I was ashamed of what I had done and I promised that I wouldn't do it again. I couldn't keep that promise though. The next morning I had an even worse hangover but it didn't stop me.

I knew I should stop, I knew it was wrong to keep on drinking but I couldn't. It was the only way I could deal with losing Patrick, it doesn't make me feel any less ashamed I was an alcoholic... I hope its not genetic.

Anyway the cost was mounting up, on my salary I couldn't afford the sitter and the booze so I fired the sitter and took you with me to bars or took the booze home with me and got drunk their. I found this daycare place for you so it was okay while I was work.

Everything was okay while I was at work, aspirin dealt nicely with the hangover, I may have been more a touch more irritable but at work I was fine and at home I was an alcoholic wreck. I am so sorry Julian, I am so sorry.

Something had to change though, something always does. It was when you were 18 months old and I was getting drunk at home. I remember you were wearing an orange sweater and blue denim overalls, you were playing with blocks and I was getting hammered. And there was a wasp.

It was buzzing around and then it landed on one of your toy blocks so you tried to grab it and it stung you. You started to cry, you started to ball your eyes out about this little wasp sting. I wanted you to shut up, I kept telling you to shut up but you just kept on crying and crying.

I had already gone through half my bottles of bourbon so I was drunk already but your crying was just fraying my last nerve and then I snapped. I knelt down beside you and then I hit you. Instantly you shut up and just looked at me pleading with Patrick's eyes.

That was when I realized I had a problem, I was just like my father. I was an alcoholic, I was drunk and I had just hit my son. I picked you up and wrapped my arms protectively around you and I rocked you gently while I cried. For hours I simply cried as I rocked you gently.

I hated myself so much for striking you, it was just once but I would give anything to take it back. You were so young and innocent, you were just hurt and I had struck you. I was just like my Dad, I was a monster. I was just as bad as the criminals I put away for a living.

I had to protect you from me... So I put you in the car and drove to Van Pelt, don't ever drive drunk by the way ever I mean it, but I did. I knocked, okay hammered on the door until she answered it sleepily in a night dress. I handed you to her and told her to watch you for a few days.

Before she could protest I ran back to my car and drove away, I went to the airport and bought a ticket to Pittsburgh in Pennsylvania where my brother Tommy lives. I got on the next flight, I turned off my cell in case anyone tried to call me.

I arrived and took a cab to his house, he was out probably at work so I found his spare key and let myself in. I flung myself onto the couch and finally fell asleep waiting for him to return so I could get him to agree to letting me stay there.

My other two brothers lived nearer but Tommy was less responsible and I didn't want to have to tell them I'd become my father, plus they weren't on speaking terms with Tommy so I had less chance of having to talk to them. I know avoiding everyone and running away sounds awful but it was better than killing myself, which is what I wanted but I didn't want to do it when I was hungover.

It was late before Tommy did finally come home...


	6. VI: Tommy

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

**_A/N: _**_Thank you so much to Simonisthecutestmentalist for reviewing every single chapter and to Anna for also reviewng, thank you so much!_

* * *

"Tommy had surprised me, after the initial shock of seeing me in his house lying on his couch he had readily agreed to let me stay, saying after I had looked after him when Mom had died it was the least he could do. He let me stay in the spare room.

And so I stayed there. I got a simple job in Wall-mart stocking shelves, I know a big step down from an officer of the law but going near the force would just... I couldn't be a cop after I had struck you.

I still worked hard at my job though, I felt obliged to contribute to the rent since I was staying with Tommy and also, I'm ashamed to say, I still liked to drink. I knew it was bad, I knew it so well but I still drank.

Tommy never said a word on the subject, we didn't actually speak to each other much. He worked and I worked then I'd come home get drunk in the spare room I was occupying while he watched TV downstairs. I pity Tommy really, he was never the same after my Dad hospitalized him. One of my greatest failures.

Anyway, the team called me of course, Hightower called me too. I never answered their calls though. They must have figured out where I was though because they called Tommy's house. I simply hung up on them each time, making sure Tommy never knew.

That was how life became, so mundane and boring but I didn't exactly care too much and I was drunk the rest of the time. Unfortunately Tommy did find out about the calls from the CBI, it was the day after your third birthday. I remember because I had a killer hangover from drinking extra. That's why Tommy answered the phone.

At first I thought nothing of it until he strode into the spare room, emerald eyes alight with anger as he loomed over me lying on the bed.

`What?` I remember asking.

`You never told me about how you left,` he'd stated firmly, setting his jaw in a stubborn and determined line.

`And?`

`You just walked away from everything without a single word!` he'd yelled, `oh and you have a son!`

`Tommy please, stop yelling,` I'd mumbled wincing at the loudness of his raised voice.

`Don't you think I had a right to know about your son? Don't you think you should have told me the CBI were looking for you?`

`Tommy look I don't want to talk about it!` I'd snapped rolling over and burying my head in the pillow.

`Well I do!` he'd roared, `how can you walk away from your son? He's three years old! Three year olds want their Mommy more than anything else in the world, I know this!` he'd continued slightly bitterly, he's been 3 when my Mom had died, `why did you abandon him?!`

`You want to know why? Do you?` I'd yelled back as I'd snapped, `because I'm just like Dad! I'm a drunk, you know it and I know it but what you don't know is that I hit him! I struck my own son because he cried after being stung by a wasp, I abused my son... I'm a monster,` I'd screamed at him my voice braking near the end when I'd started crying.

I remember curling into a ball and crying, Tommy had carefully placed his arms around me and held me close in an attempt to comfort me.

`It's okay Terre, I'm sorry,` he'd whispered, `it's okay.`

`No it isn't!` I'd protested, `I was so happy but Patrick loved revenge more than me so he killed Red John and I had to arrest him, arrest the man I loved,` I'd sobbed as he rocked me gently, `then he was in prison and I had Julian but I didn't want him and I went to see Patrick and I was so horrible to him and then he died. Patrick died and took my heart with him...`

`Is that why you started drinking?` Tommy had questioned.

`Yeah... I.....miss.....him.....so.....much,` I'd told my brother in between sobs, `so....I....drank....but....then....Julian....I just....just....I abused him, my own flesh and blood.....my innocent child..... Tommy, I had to go...`

Then I'd cried for awhile, cried away my hurt, self hatred and miserey. I didn't cry nearly enough of my pain away but I did feel slightly better. Tommy stayed with me the whole time but I didn't want him there, I was ashamed of my weakness. I know it may sound pretty stupid but breaking down like that is shameful to me... I wonder if that's how Patrick felt when he told me about what happened after his family were killed.

When I'd next opened my eyes it was to streaming sunlight: morning and Tommy had left me a note saying he had to work. I had gone straight to the phone and rang Van Pelt's house, they wouldn't be at the CBI yet, too early but I hoped to find one of them at home and secretly I hoped she'd have news of Julian. What a shock I'd gotten when you had answered.

`Hello, Van Pelt-Ridsby resdance,` you'd said politely, not perfect speech but you'd come a long way from thins like Mama, wuvey and no, `how can I help?`

`Julian?` I had gasped in shock and my surprise became more at your answer.

`Mommy!` you'd exclaimed in recognition, I was stunned senseless for a minute both by your recognition but also of the delight in your tone.

`Yes... Julian its me but please don't call me Mommy,` I'd answered eventually.

`Whatever makes you happy,` you'd informed me still sounding over the moon, `are you comind home?`

`Err...` I'd mumbled feeling tears sting my eyes at the hope in your voice.

`Please say yes Mo- Tersa,` you'd begged, sounding so innocent and desperate, `I told Drace and Wayne you'd come back, they always said maybe but I knew you were comind back.`

You had no idea how much I just wanted to cry as I heard you talk, I felt so raw and wished I had never called. It broke my heart to hear the love in your voice, you loved me even after I had hit you.

`Maybe,` I'd said eventually and I could feel the savage disappointment from states apart, `I will come back just not today... it may be soon or it may be later but I will come back for you, okay?`

`Okay,` you'd agreed quietly.

`But you have to be brave and strong and most importantly be good. Do what you're told, be on your best behavior and try really hard at whatever you do, okay?`

`I will! I promise, I promise,` you repeated as if to assure me you would, `I love you Mommy.`

`I know,` I'd said bluntly before I practically threw down the phone and burst into tears again.

When I eventually calmed down I vowed things would change, I would stop drinking. I would go to those AA meetings, I would even see a psychiatrist if I had to but I was going to quit drinking and go back to Sacramento...


	7. VII: Return

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

* * *

I stop to take a deep breath as I continue to gaze at my son, I wished he'd open his eyes or even move. He seems so still, so silent. I wish he'd wake up, I wish I could hear him speak. I tighten my grip on his hand and choke down some tears, I wish he's be okay.

"Well as you probably know it was a long while before I did actually return to Sacramento. I did try though, I did quit drinking and clean up my act quite a bit but it took time and even then I was afraid to go back. Van Pelt told me later how you did as you were told, how you helped out with chores... how you kept your room spotless and packed a suitcase every evening morning in case I would come.

It still breaks my heart how much you listened to what I'd said, even after what I'd done. It was actually 2 years before I went back, I couldn't quite muster the courage to return. Tommy realized I think that as long as I was welcome there I wouldn't have to go back so he... kicked me out so to speak.

Told me to pack my things as I couldn't stay there anymore so I did. I was forced to return to Sacramento or face the wrath of my other brothers who had fallen out of odds with me due to my neglect to communicate with them so to Sacramento I went.

My house looked so desolate and empty, even more so than usual I mean. It was a dark dusty place, no one had really bothered to do anything to it but it had still been empty. Both the front and the back yard had become overgrown with a tangle of grass and weeds, my car had inevitably been towed and destroyed also.

I remember groaning as I thought of all I had to accomplish now I was back, take care of the house, buy a new car, get my job back or get another job and you... They seemed like quite daunting tasks to me. I spent the first few days back cleaning the house, brushing away the dust and cobwebs and cutting the grass etc, etc.

Then I had to face the CBI. I don't think I'd ever been more nervous about anything in my life as I was walking through the familiar halls to Hightower's office. Walking past the gaping faces, it reminded me of the shock everyone had felt after I had to arrest Patrick, dark days Julian, dark days.

`Come in,` had come Hightower's crisp tone, I had gulped before taking a deep breath and going into her office. I remember how her eyes widened as she saw me standing there, `Agent Lisbon, long time no see,` she'd said finally.

`Nice to see you too boss,` I mumbled staring at my feet.

`Why don't you take a seat?` she'd offered and I'd sat down still boring my eyes into my feet on the floorboards, `so... where have you been these past 3 and a half years?`

`With my brother Tommy in Pittsburgh, in Pennsylvania,` I'd muttered in reply not wanting to meet her eyes.

`I was thinking more, why did you vanish off the face of the planet without a word to anyone?` she demanded and I told her, I told her everything. About what I'd done, about the alcohol... I told her everything and when I was finished she sat there looking at with an expression blank enough to give Cho a run for his money, `and now you want your job back?`

`Err... yeah,` I'd replied blushing at it occured to me this was more like something Patrick would have done. Vanishing for years then coming back and asking for his job back except he would have done it with more finesse and without feeling so embarrassed.

`Well Lisbon I'll think about it but I suggest you need to have a conversation with your old team... and with your son,` she'd said and I'd finally looked straight into her eyes as she mentioned you.

`Julian...` I think I'd whispered under my breath or else she'd guessed what I was thinking because she'd then said.

`He worships you, did you know that? He tells everyone one day his Mommy is coming back for him if he is good.`

`Really?` I did actually say that although I was again surprised by your love for me.

`Yep, he's a good kid. Sweet, kind... you should meet him.`

`Maybe I will.`

`Then go,` she'd practically commanded and my resolve finally felt strong enough to go to you, I'd gotten to the door before I realized I had no idea where you were, `Van Pelt's house, sitter's called Marla.`

`Thanks,` I remember saying before hurrying away, stopping to glance at the empty bullpen and Patrick's couch... that had brought back some memories I tell you.

I'd got back to my rental car and drove to Van Pelt's house. I remember sitting in the car for about half an hour arguing with myself about this before I finally went and knocked on the door... but I'd chickened out and ran back down the path throwing myself into the bushes so I wouldn't be seen.

`Hello?` you'd called and my heart had clenched at hearing your voice again.

`Julian, get back inside,` commanded a new female voice after a minute.

`But there was a knock...`

`Of course there was Julian,` mocked the woman sarcastically, Marla the babysitter I'd realized by this point, `must have been a Chupacabra to come eat Julian for not listening to me and getting back inside the house.`

I heard you sigh and then the door closed. For a minute I remember lying there before I found the courage to go up to the door again and ring the bell this time. It chimed loudly before a plump Hispanic woman opened the door and looked at me curiously.

`Are you Marla?` I'd asked.

`Si, y yo?` replied Marla raising an eyebrow at me.

`I... I'm Lisbon, Teresa Lisbon... Julian's... Mom. I'm here to see him,` I'd answered in a sort of pathetic nervous way. To my surprise the woman had smiled.

`About time you came to see him, he's in his room. First on the left,` explained Marla letting me inside.

She walked away in the direction of what looked like the kitchen as I forced my feet to climb the stairs and look at the first door on the left. Your name was spelled out in green letters, I had raised my hand stiffly and rapped on the door a few times letting out a nervous breath.

`Entrar,` you'd called clearly back and I'd opened the door.

You had your back to me as you were making your bed. The room was clean, the blue carpet looked recently vacuumed, all the books and toys were all neat and in place. You really had took me at my word.

`Julian,` I'd whispered gently and immediately you'd turned to look at me, your whole face lighting up as you saw me.

`Mo- Teresa, I knew you'd come back,` you exclaimed still beaming at me, `no one believed me but I knew you wouldn't let me down.`

`Julian,` I remember saying again before you threw your arms around me, I knelt down and hugged you tightly back as tears rolled down my cheeks..." my voice trails off as present day tears wash my face, "please wake up Julian, please...


	8. VIII: Conflict

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

**_Author's Note: _**_Thank you so much Simonisthecutestmentalist for reviewing!_

* * *

"You were so very happy, ecstatic with delight as you announced you would pack. I kind of crept downstairs in an attempt to shake off the guilt I was feeling, which was alot. Marla made me us some tea and we sipped it talking small talk as we awaited you to come down or someone to come home. Eventually you'd trotted down with your stuff all neatly packed.

`Can we go Teresa?` you'd asked politely grinning at me.

`Better wait until... Van Pelt gets home,` I'd answered feeling extremerly nervous about the whole thing.

You bobbed your head in agreement and settled down on the couch beside me still smiling, my smile I noticed like you had my hair except it was neater than mine, neatly combed when mine was a mess from jumping into the bushes. Your eyes were Patrick's though, still, always you have Patrick's eyes.

As we waited for Van Pelt I quizzed you on your life, do you remember that? I managed to gleam the fact that Van Pelt and Rigsby were now married and living here, that you had lived there since I'd left you and bits and pieces of your personality. Then Van Pelt and Rigsby came home, the smiles died to their lips when they saw me to be replaced by stunned amazament.

`Look Grace! Wayne! Mo-Teresa came back, just like I said she would,` you'd exclaimed looking delighted, `you see I was right!`

`Wow Lisbon... it's good to see you,` Van Pelt had muttered awkwardly.

`Julian go wait in your room please, your Mom and us need to have a private word okay?` Rigsby had said and you'd leaped up obidiently to obey.

`She doesn't like to be called Mommy though,` you'd whispered before jogging upstairs.

`So you're back,` Van Pelt had stated as if trying to believe it, `so much for a couple of days.`

`Why?` Rigsby had demanded, `you just ditch Julian and vanish, poof gone... Why?`

`I... had a problem with alcohol and... I hit Julian once but it freaked me out,` I attempted to explain, `I felt so guilty about it... so I left... to protect him... from me.`

`Why come back now?` Rigsby had asked.

`I've manged to quit drinking and I wanted... to have my old life back as much as possible,` I'd mumbled, it sounded quite pathetic out loud.

`We could have helped you, you know,` Van Pelt had offered cooly.

`I know... I'm sorry,` I'd said, at that point I had regretted ever coming back.

`You're sorry?!` Van Pelt had yelled, `we were worried about you! That's no excuse to abandon your friends and your son! Think I wanted to have a baby dumped on me?! How could you have been so selfish?!`

`Leave her alone, she didn't mean it!` you'd yelled protectively and we noticed you sitting on the stairs listening with tears glistening unshed in your eyes.

`Dormitorio! Ahora!` Marla had snapped and you'd crept out of sight, `lo siento.`

`Just let me take Julian then,` I'd pleaded feeling guilty.

`What so you can screw his life up some more?` Van Pelt had snapped.

`Grace, he is her son,` Rigsby had offered.

`Fine take him and go,` Van Pelt had agreed still seething with fury before storming off.

`She's just upset about you taking Julian,` Rigsby had apologized, `she's very attached to him... I'm glad you're back.`

`Thank you, it's almost good to be back,` I'd said awkwardly, it wasn't until much later I had learned why she was so attached to you, she couldn't have kids of her own and you were the closet she thing she had to one.

`Are you gonna come back to work at the CBI?` Rigsby had asked conversationally.

`I was thinking about it.`

`It'll be good to have you back,` he'd informed me smiling genuinely, `we missed you. Even Grace.`

`And you're together?`

`The rules sortof changed, so yeah... Julian!`

You'd come eagerly back downstairs and we'd said our goodbyes and left, you'd been quite cold Rigsby for some reason. I wished you had heard the last part of the conversation as opposed to only the first part, I had no idea you had taken Van Pelt's words of not wanting a baby dumped on her, to heart.

It had been tough adapting to this life with you and work. I was allowed back on the team but not as the leader anymore, Cho was the boss even though he often unofficially followed my suggestions. His deadpan expression hides alot but I think he was pleased to have me back as was Rigsby, he was like the middle child while Van Pelt and I were the other two constantly at each other's throats. I tried to be nice to her, I really did but she seemed determined to stay mad at me.

Then there was you, Marla offered to look after you while I worked and I accepted seeming as you were already used to her and her prices were fair. You were... different to what I remembered obviously. You were so kind and helpful, you kept the house cleaner then I ever could. It just made me feel even guilter, I didn't -don't- deserve a son as good as you. I mean that Julian, I really do.

I was impressed also by your intelligence, you were better with numbers than I was plus you could read and write well and were fluent in spanish. You were not like most five year olds I realized very quickly especially after you started kindergarten. You aced every test and always had a glowing report card of straight A's. I think you tried to do well to get me to spend more time with you but again I threw myself hard into work.

Not that school life was at all easy for you, one of my other brothers was bullied in school and even though you denied it I knew it was true. You had no friends either... that's why I accepted the offer the prinipal gave me. In early spring he called and asked me to come and talk to him...


	9. IX: Decision

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

**_Author's Note: _**_Sorry that its kindof a crummy chapter and for the delay but we had to go my uncle's funeral, so sorry. Thank you so much Simonisthecutestmentalist and jisbon-sessed for reviewing!_

* * *

`Is Julian in trouble?` I'd asked the principal immediately, a tall balding man named Karl Lenning. I remember it because it was almost like the game Lemmings.

`No, of course not,` he'd laughed heart-hearedly, `Julian Lisbon in trouble? That's laughable, no on the contrary his behavior is excellent.`

`Then what?` I'd pressed, `is he being bullied?`

`Well yeah... but that's not really the point. Ms Lisbon, Julian is brilliant. As you probably have realized his intelligence surpasses that of normal children his age. We recommend he be transfered to a school for gifted children.`

`Really?` I'd muttered in amazement, I was amazed that I could have such a smart kid... I really am proud of you, you know that right?

`Yes and I've checked and he can gain a scholership due to your... average income and that he has no fathe-`

`He has a father,` I'd interrupted surprising myself.

`What?`

`Just because Patrick Jane is dead does not mean he is not Julian's father,` I'd told him stubbornly, I know weird right? I thought the same.

`Err... okay but he should still classify for the scholorship. With a mind like his he can go far,` the principal had continued.

`That's great I had no idea there was a school like that in Sacramento.`

`Err... there isn't. He'd have to live at the school, out of Sacramento, out of California even.`

`What?`

`The school's in Colorado.`

`Colorado?`

`Look Ms Lisbon, I know its hard for parents to seperate from their children particulary at such a young age but... isn't it in the best interests for the future? At least think about it.`

And I had. I had thought long and hard about it and convinced myself it was best for you. You know I had it tough growing up and even before that my Dad didn't have the most well-paid job in the world and after he quit working we really were poor as hell and whatever money we did have he spent most on booze. Even now the CBI doesn't pay that well... I convinced myself it was better for your future to send you away. I swear Julian, I thought it was for the best I had no idea what was going to happen..."

My voice trails off again and I take a deep guilty breath before running my free fingers through his hair. He still lies as motionless as ever, his ringed eyes firmly closed.

"I guess I deserve this don't I? I want you to be here so bad when all I've ever done is send you away and abandon you. I'm sorry Julian, I really did believe it was the best... The team knew better though. Cho's reaction was the mildest and even then he gaped at me looking aghast before asking me if I was insane, but he found out sepearately the day after I told Van Pelt. Van Pelt had the worst reaction, she was... she was pissed.

`You can't do this! How can you do this to Julian? Why are you determined to hurt him?`she's practically screamed at me.

`It's for the best Van Pelt,` I'd told her cooly.

`NO! It's what's best for you, you don't want to deal with him so you ditch him. You come back, change your mind then instead of ditching him you send him away, all by himself. He's not even six yet!`

`Van Pelt he's my son,` I'd snapped feeling angry myself at this point, `it's none of your buissness.`

`None of my buissness? Who gave him a home, a bed, a room, toys, food, drink, who loved him when his own mother didn't want him? I DID!` she'd shrieked hysterically and I was so glad to have told her at her house instead of in the bullpen.

`You're not his mother! And you never will be,` I'd spat at her coldly.

I really sound like a bitch don't I? Thinking back... I was awful, in my defence I was hurting. Life just... sucked but it still doesn't make things right, does it? I really need to apologize to her now.

Anyway... I started to walk away and a lamp sort of flew past my ear smashing into pieces on the wall. I'd turned back ready to fight but Rigsby had prevented it by stepping in between us.

`Come on stop this, let's talk like reasonable adults,` that's what he'd said.

`How can you side with her?` Van Pelt had screamed at him.

`I'm not on her side, I'm just saying fighting doesn't solve anything.`

`Since when?`

I'd taken the oppurtunity to quietly slip away. Unfortunately Van Pelt's accusations had only made me more determined to send you away. How could I have thought that? I'm sorry Julian, I know it sounds repetitive but I mean it, I truly am... You were devestated when I told you.

`You're sending me away?` you'd said looking at me broken hearted.

`It's for the best Julian, you are so clever you get to go to this amazing school. Way better than this school,` I remember telling you sounding unbelievably chipper if I'm honest.

`But...`

`Don't you want me to be proud of you?` I'd interrupted and I guess that is what had shut you up.

`Yes,` you'd said so quietly.

`Then go to this school and do me proud, okay?`

`Okay,` you'd agreed looking defeated... I just ignored that, thinking you'd thank me later. Do you thank me Julian? I'm sure you don't.

I think I'd said something lame about still being able to visit at Christmas and stuff, you hadn't seemed convinced but I'd told myself harshly that you were just a child. You didn't know what you wanted and I did, I was your mother and I knew best. Looking back... you knew what you wanted all along. You just wanted your Mom.

I was sort of hated in work after that though, by my team anyway. Van Pelt could scarcely stand being in the same room as me, Cho was civil as ever but his deadpan expression hid dissapointment. Rigsby was somewhere in the middle as was Hightower, Marla glared at me but never said a word.

You couldn't start till September but we did visit the place, you were not surprisingly unenthusiastic... Then the time came and I dropped you off, as cheerful as you were miserable. I was kind of being overexcited to try get you happier but well, I guess it just made me seem even more evil.


	10. X: Reunion

**_I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

**_Author's Note: _**_Ha I updated so quickly, that chapter was basically a lengthened filler as this one seemed too long compared to the other chapters. Enjoy the twist._

* * *

"You used to write, we alone on the planet wrote to each other... You always used to beg to come home but I always refused, your grades were good right. I thought that was more important than your happiness, at the time anyway. You used to visit too, I did actually look forward to those visits Julian. I did.

Life carried on, I worked hard at my job which I still loved despite the team's new found dislike of me. Of course eventually they started to come around more, especially Cho and Rigsby, they didn't forgive me of course but they had to accept it. Van Pelt, not so much.

Think I should go call them? They have no idea that you or I are here... Seriously Julian, the second I got the call I went as fast to Colorado as I could. They probably think I abandoned them again... I don't want to leave you though, I am not going to leave you again.

It doesn't matter what I say does it? You aren't listening, you can't hear a single word that I'm saying, you just lie there mute, deaf, blind... the drawbacks of being unconscious... You're all but dead, a lone machine forces your heart to beat. WAKE UP JULIAN! It doesn't matter how loudly I scream does it? You still can't hear.

I swear Julian if you wake up we are going to go home to Sacramento, I swear I am never going to send you away again, I swear I am never going to abandon you again. I love you Julian and I promise if you wake up things are going to change, just please wake up..."

My voice trails off, I have the lost the will to speak anymore. Instead I grip his hand ever tighter and lay my head on the bed beside it. I'd give anything for him to wake up, my own life even. Just as my exhausted eyelids droop themselves closed, I become aware of a hand placing itself on my shoulder. Vaguely I wonder who it is but mostly I don't care, all that matters at the moment is Julian.

"Leave me alone, I want to be with my son," I say tiredly, not having the strength to snap at him or her.

"Teresa..." a voice says, a voice that has long since been lost to this world.

For a second I wonder if I am dreaming as I turn my head slowly around to see a striking pair of eyes looking at me sadly, a head of golden curls, a three piece suit...

"Patrick?" I question cautiously realizing this doesn't feel like a dream, a hallucination?

"Yes I really am alive, you're not dreaming, hallucinating, nor are you dead and I am not a ghost," he answers my unasked questions.

I stood up still slowly and we both stand for a second gazing at each other, I try to summon all the anger I held against him for so long but fail miserably. Instead I throw my arms around him and he hugs me tightly back, for a long while we stay locked in the embrace.

"How?" I ask finally admist silent streaming tears.

"I survived being stabbed... but they offered me a deal, the FBI. Basically fake my death, new life working for them or stay in jail until my inevitable death," he explains quietly.

"Why didn't you come back to me?"

"You hated me," he whispers, "because I killed Red John and ruined everything. I thought I was doing the most worthwhile thing I had ever done but after... I realized it was the worst possible thing I could have done. You hated me and I didn't deserve to make things right with the woman I love."

"I never hated you Patrick, when I heard you died..."

"I know I've been listening to you talking about it."

"How did you know we were here?"

"I know Julian... I was walking one day on the weekend and I saw him sitting in a tree, he looked lonely so I talked to him and quickly realized who he was but he didn't realize who I was. I made a getaway but went to the school and flashed my FBI badge, they promised to keep me informed about him but not tell anyone. CBI, FBI... all the same to them," I hear him force a laugh.

"Promise me your not going to leave or die or fake your death again... promise me Patrick, promise!"

"I promise," he agrees and I hug him tighter.

"Mo- Teresa?" croaks a weak voice I also know well.

Immediately we both pull away and glance at the bed where a pasty looking Julian struggles to sit up. I gasp as a smile forms on my face as I go back over to him and hold his hand again looking into his solemn eyes.

"Hey Julian, how you feeling?" I question gently.

"Alive," he mutters weakly, "I didn't think you'd be here."

"Of course, you're my son," I tell him feeling slightly surprised he thinks that, "I love you Julian and I'm sorry."

"For what?" he asks blinking away tears, "I'm the one that's not good enough for you, Grace didn't want me, my Dad didn't want me, you don't want me."

"No," Patrick says firmly behind me walking over to him, "your Dad does want you, he loves you."

"My Dad is dead," Julian informs him.

"No he isn't, Julian I'm Patrick Jane. I'm your Dad," Patrick tells him and Julian's eyes widen in shock.

"But you've been dead for a decade," Julian says looking completely bewildered, "am I dead?"

"No," I allow a nervous laugh, "you're alive, you have to stay alive okay? Promise me."

"I promise," he murmurs quietly, his eyelids already drooping shut.

"He just needs rest," announces a nurse suddenly seemingly from nowhere and I leap to my feet stunned.

"Is he going to be okay?" Patrick asks quickly holding his breath.

"He woke up, his chances are looking alot better," the nurse says kindly and I smile slightly reaching out to hold Patrick's hand.

Everything was going to be okay.


	11. XI: Waiting

**_DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THE MENTALIST!_**

**__****A/N: **_Thank you so much to Crystal for reviewing the last chapter! I'm sorry for the delay, one of the pups ate the second half of the chapter so I had to write it again. I know its not that great, more of a filler but the next chapter should be better_

* * *

"What are you gonna do?" I ask as we sit side by side, hand in hand watching Julian in a much more peaceful sleep.

"About what?"

"When Julian gets better, are you gonna come back to Sacramento?" I explain but before he can answer my cell rings and I answer it to find hear a fuming Van Pelt.

"_FINALLY! Where are you?" _she demands immediately, "_have you ditched everyone again? Why are you so determined to crush Julian's spirit? Why_?"

"Have I ever told you how much I appreciate you and the others?"

"_Is that your way of saying I'm leaving for Mexico?"_

"No Grace I'm serious and I'm in Colorado," I explain for once having no problem keeping my temper in check.

"_Colorado?_" her voice becomes quiet as it dawns on her, "_Julian... is he... I mean... he's not..."_

"He's alive, just hurt," I cut in and the relief is clear in her voice.

"_That's good at least... I'm gonna get the next flight out there. What happened_?"

"I'll tell you when you get here, don't worry too much he seems to be doing alot better now."

"_Good. I'm gonna go now, see you shortly_," she said before hanging up.

I look quickly at Julian, while obviously still looking ill his breathing seemed more even and he no longer needed a machine to breath for him and maybe it was wistful thinking but he looks slightly healthier. I squeeze his hand gently and his eyes flutter open again.

"Teresa, you're still here," he mumbles weakly but the corners of his mouth twitch in a smile.

"Of course I'm still here," I tell him feeling sad he assumes I'd abandon him again, not that I blame him, "do you really think I'd just leave you right now?"

"Err... yeah."

"Were you serious earlier when you said you thought no one wanted you?" I ask him gently.

"It's true isn't it? I heard what Grace said, she didn't want a baby dumped on her and you left and then you sent me away... I'm sorry I'm so worthless Teresa," he explains looking miserable and trying not to cry.

"You're not worthless Julian, you're like the perfect son and I am so proud of you. Don't you forget that okay? I'm the screwed up one-"

"Don't say that Teresa, you're a great Mom," he interrupts me defensively.

"No I'm not, I kind of suck at it but I promise I'm going to try harder. When you've recovered you're gonna come to live back to Sacramento, would you like that?" I ask smiling and he nods weakly returning my smile.

"You're awake," Patrick states smiling as he returns with a mug of tea and a coffee cup which he hands to me and takes a seat, "are you thirsty Julian? I can get you a soda or something."

"I'm fine Patrick."

"You can call me Dad y'know?" Patrick laughs nervously, "although I haven't been the best Dad have I?"

"Of course you have!" Julian protests, "I'm just happy you're alive and here, both of you are here. Are you... Are you gonna come back to Sacramento?"

"Yes I am," he says and Julian and I both grin broadly, "just try get some rest now okay?"

"Okay," Julian agrees closing his eyes carefully.

"You're really gonna come back?"

"Of course, if you want me to come back that is."

"I've always wanted you to come back," I tell him honestly, "I love you Patrick."

"I love you too and I know its never going to be good enough but I am sorry," he mumbles looking guiltily at me, "there's excuse for what I did... I never realized things would be so bad for you if I faked my death, I didn't think I just figured it was better than staying there for the rest of my short life."

"It's okay, we can work through it. You, me, Julian... oh god I forgot to tell Van Pelt you were alive!" I laugh suddenly as does he.

"It's okay, she likes surprises."

Our laughter fades as we sober sipping our drinks in silence, my eyes dart between Patrick and Julian, I still struggle to believe I am actually sitting right beside a dead man. I study him carefully, he looks almost the same slightly older yes and with a slightly more haunted look in his eyes but still Patrick Jane and...

"You're not wearing your wedding ring," I point out after I notice its absence.

"What? Oh that yeah, I haven't worn it in years."

"So... what's it like working with the FBI?"

"It has its moments, I never need to worry about the FBI getting sued. Mention the word and everybody goes silent, which can kinda be a draw back... I work on rotation, different units all the time. It's not the same as working with the CBI, with the team, with you. I miss it."

"The team will be pleased you're alive, we miss you. Work is so much more mundane without your insane plans," I tell him smiling half heartedly, "I never thought I'd actually miss that. Y'know every time I look at your couch I half expect to see you lying there?"

"I don't know if-" he began but stopped when a cell phone rang, "hold that thought," he added answering the call, "Jane..."

"Hey," hissed the nurse as she returns, "no cell phones allowed in the hospital. Turn 'em off."

"Sorry ma'am FBI, urgent," explains Patrick looking at her seriously, "I'll be back, its my boss," he whispers to me leaving.

"I hope so."


End file.
